


Parasite

by HybridComplex



Category: Prometheus (2012)
Genre: Gen, Gore, M/M, Vivisection, emergency surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-31
Updated: 2012-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-17 11:19:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HybridComplex/pseuds/HybridComplex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He should have known better; it wasn't the first time something he found cute tried to kill him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parasite

Millburn is choking, stomach bloated. He can feel it _moving_ , twisting down into his stomach, tail taking a short detour into his trachea. He’s leaning on Fifield’s shoulder, unprotected head rolling from side to side. He’d given him his equipment because it’s not like he can breathe anyway, esophagus swollen and bulging and hindering his lungs.  
  
They get to the ship and the sight of the tail whipping from Millburn’s mouth keeps any of the crew from stopping them. Fifield drags him to med bay, tugs his blood and saliva soaked shirt over his head, tosses it away, shoves Millburn down onto the operation table. The creature writhes violently and his throat clenches. He rolls onto his side, lets his head hang over the edge as vomit rushes out of his mouth, painful as it forces past the creature.  
  
There’s no time to clean him up, no time to find a syringe or a numbing agent. Fifield grabs a laser scalpel, presses his fingers to the man’s jaw fleetingly, waits for him to nod, cheeks blueing and eyes squeezing shut.   
  
Millburn screams at the touch of it, slicing and burning and spreading agony into his spine. Fifield steels himself, pulls apart the edges of the cut, resists the urge to vomit as he sees the twisting outline of the disgusting alien, completely inside Millburn’s stomach now. He wipes his hands on his shirt to clear away the blood, takes the scalpel in hand again. He quickly cuts where esophagus meets stomach, grabs the thing by the tail and _pulls_.  
  
Millburn is sobbing, pain flaring all over, heart pressing uneven and frantic to his ribcage as he feels Fifield dragging it out of him. He holds it by the hood, throws it into the decontamination chamber across the room. He quickly threads Millburn’s stomach and esophagus back together, seals him back up.  
  
That’s when he takes the time to clean Millburn up, ignores Shaw and the others as they come to retrieve the alien. He wipes the vomit and drool from his lips, the tears from his eyes, the blood from his belly. Millburn is still crying, eyes half open, face screwed up in pain. Fifield fishes some morphine out of a drawer, lets it soothe him, drags his fingers through Millburn’s hair.


End file.
